


Dying is Easy, Young Man, Living is Harder

by AceQueenKing



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Character Death Fix, F/M, Missing Scene, Tarquin Lives AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 17:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6433837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't expect to wake up on the Normandy, but he does -- and Tarquin Victus isn't sure of where to go from here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dying is Easy, Young Man, Living is Harder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RSolya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RSolya/gifts).



When the time comes, he jumps with no hesitation.  _This is for you, father_ , he thinks, and he jumps, and he ignores Shepard's "No!" and focuses on his mission, leaping into the abyss as a hero instead of as a fuck up.   
  
And then he is falling. Falling fast, falling far. He isn't scared. He's messed up, messed up bad, and maybe this will make it better, maybe this will be will be something that saves him and --

And then he's falling, and he hears a roar, a roar so fast and so hot that he can't help but shudder in the face of it, so strong --

 _Victory at any cos_ t, he thinks. _Victory at any cost._

he thinks it and thinks it, as hard as he can, because he's dying, but at least he's dying for a purpose.

And then there's nothing.

\- - -

He awakes in an unfamiliar room with a steady beep of noises and the mother of all headaches. He can't feel anything from the neck down, and he's afraid to look, so instead he just listens to the sound of machines.

 _Beep. Beep. Beep._ It's almost calming in the repetition. 

"You gave us a worry, kid," a voice says, and he turns towards it on instinct even though every bone in his body protests the action. 

"Shepard?" He says. His words are slurred. Whatever they've put in his system, it's heavy. He can barely move, and words seem to take more effort than talking logistically should.  

"Got it in one." Shepard smirks. "Welcome to the Normandy, Tarquin Victus."  
  
He swears, his words regional slur that he doesn't expect her translator to pick up, but to his surprise, Shepard laughs.

"And fuck you too, buddy." Shepard says, her red scars dancing on her cheeks. She's a beautiful woman in spite of them, he thinks; it suits her, gives edges to a too smooth face. 

"Sorry." He groans, his neck blushing blue. "Wasn't expecting you to pick up on that. Or for me to survive that for that matter."  He isn't sure if survival is technically the right word -- he's still alive, but how long until he gets called back for a court martial? It will be too soon and while Tarquin does not fear death, he does fear dishonor.

"You almost didn't." Her hand glows bright and blue and Tarquin watches, spellbound, as her biotics flare out from it. "But I pulled you out."

"It might have been better if you hadn't."  He closes his eyes, and wonders what his father will think of this news. A dead hero son is a source of pride; a living fuck-up is not. Tarquin Victus can't think of a worse fate than dishonoring his father's memory. 

"Hey, don't talk like that." Shepard frowns, her cute and strange human mouth narrowing into a v.

"You're not turian." He says. He tries to lift his neck to turn, but he can't, so he just collapses back into the bed. Another thing he's failed at.

"Thank god." Shepard smirks. "You guys are cute, but your ideas are kind of dumb."

"Tell that to my father," he says weakly. He's beyond exhausted, but even in this state he can still imagine his father's disappointed eyes.

"You can tell him yourself." Shepard grabs his hand and his heart beats faster; it's the first time he's ever been touched by a human, and the smooth-skinned touch on his hand is almost comforting. It's hard to believe anyone could touch him after Tuchanka; hard to believe a fellow soldier is anything less than disgusted with him.  

"Don't think I'm up for that yet," he says, coughing.

"It's ok." She squeezes his hand, and he can't help but feel a little stronger with her at his side. "I'll be at your side. You're alive, Tarquin. That's all that will matter to him."  
  
"Like I said," he says, though he's not sure how much she understands -- his words are slurring rapidly, to the point he's not sure the translator will catch them. "You're not turian."  
  
"Maybe not, but as someone who's been dead and come back, trust me." She squeezed his hands. "It's better this way. Now rest.""

He doesn't believe her, but he closes his eyes.   
  
Tarquin dreams of falling, and failing, but in every dream, Shepard catches him.  
  
It's a long road to recovery, but thinking about her, he wonders if he just may have a chance. 


End file.
